Everyone Else Is Doing It!
by Lack of Tact
Summary: I'm all but a bum; recently 'let go' and now without a job, I live in a run-down apartment with nosey neighbors and random police searches bi-weekly. My one escape happens to be Visual Novels... however, after I'd just finished a certain one, something happens. Something I'm not too sure whether or not I want to believe. Rated T — M
1. Chapter 1

**Day 1, Part 1**

 **Prologue (1/2): Not What You've Come to Expect**

* * *

My emotions were scattered, my brain was frazzled. I'd just finished a stupendous game, a wonderful visual novel titled ' _Doki Doki Asphyxia — Literature Club'_ and I was stumped. That was it? That couldn't be it! There was so much left to do: the festival needed to be replanned, Natsuki's cupcakes needed to be rebaked, I needed to hang out with Sayori more! So much was left undone, but as I stared at the credits screen, the colorful images of each route taken scrolled by passively, I knew the ending had truly and finally come.

And I was maximum disappoint.

I brought my hands up to my face and fell back onto my bed, my laptop threw from my, well, lap and onto the floor. Bah, I didn't care, it was obsolete by today's standards anyway. I drew back a hand and prodded away at my befallen bangs, the length of them made me realize I needed a haircut. _Why did hair have to grow back so quickly?_ I cast a glance to my left onto the floor below, my laptop's screen was damaged, glaring various colors to the world, by the sudden impact; I sighed, _okay, so it's even more obsolete now._ Great. That just means I need to buy a new one. With nonexistent money.

Did I seriously break my one computer because of a video game? Shit, that's sad. With a grunt of minuscule effort, I found the wall nearest my bed staring directly at me. _I could've sworn I just looking at my laptop._ I shook my head with a low _'tch'_ and left the room, I'll pick up my laptop later. It's not like my room's any more a mess than my life is.

I wondered briefly if I wanted eggs or pancakes...

 **. . . . .**

So, if Sayori was doomed to hang regardless of my choice... why the fuck did I continue past Act 1? No matter how many times I've tried, no matter how many different routes I've taken, I'd always come to find her in her room... with that damnable noose around her neck. Why couldn't my character be any quicker? Why couldn't he have tried any harder? There were so many options one could've taken in real life to prevent such a horrible fate, but he took none! Yes, yes, I knew it was Monika's doing, but seriously. A pseudo-path where she _doesn't_ hang herself would've been nice... granted the 'happy' ending was alright I suppose, as no one had died except for the very person who started that whole mess.

But did Monika really _die_ though? I'd deleted her from her folder during one playthrough, but she'd somehow managed to come back to save 'me' from Sayori when she inherited the ex-President of the Literature Club's abilities. If she could do that, then maybe she really can't _die_ or _be deleted_. Maybe the other's can't as well... _hahaha, nevermind, Yuri and Sayori both did._ I thought to myself sarcastically as I chewed idly on a burnt pancake segment. Maybe it's best not to dwell on it; as earlier thought, no matter what happens, the outcome will always be the same. The same characters will die, the same festival will never be participated in, and of course, the same Monika will always take over the game and nothing else.

That's a depressing thing, but what do I care, it's a game. It's not going to leave any lasting effect on my life or me, I just got a little worked up is all. _Goddammit, I should've downloaded 'Monika After Story' after all._ I lazily stabbed the fork into the last piece of non-syrupy, crispy pancake and pop it in my mouth. _Before_ _I basically crapped my laptop._ But why would I want to do that in the first place? Sayori was best girl really, Monika was just Monika. Natsuki was jailbait and Yuri... _yeesh, I ain't touchin' that broad with a ten-foot pool._ Nothing against yanderes, but I'd prefer not to be stabbed thinking idly of my mother, thank you.

"Jiminy Christmas, this game has me thinking too much about it. I'm gonna go troll on 4chaa _aa_ _and my laptop's broken."_ After my palm smacks loudly against my face, I grumbled at my own stupidity. I'd literally just thought of my laptop not even seconds prior and there I go; thought about using my broken laptop. Genius. I pushed myself away from the small, two-person table and grab at my empty dish. Just looking at it brings about the sour taste in my mouth. "Ugh, I gotta learn how to bake better pancakes. Third set of ash-patties, this week..." The hushed grumble reverberated repeatedly in my empty apartment.

"Or just do takeout again... like _that_ didn't destroy my savings before." Just one bad idea after another, that's me. Bad idea guy. _Can I do anything right, seriously?_ It wasn't a second after I tossed the plate into the malfunctioning sink, that I heard a crash sound from it. I don't even need to look into the dip in the countertop to know what happened. _"Guess not."_ With that final, sharp whisper I loiter in place. What does a man who has nothing to do, do? Nothing, that's what he could do.

"Really should've just placed my laptop next to me..." I nodded at my own assessment before I threw my head back again with a growl of annoyance. "Gimme a break, for the love of God and the holy three!" Silence responded to my prayer; glaring, I flipped off the ceiling like a fool.

Another crash sounded, but not the familiar sound of shattering ceramic. This time, it sounded muffled and came from my room. My mouth dropped open and my eye twitched. "I said ' _a break',_ not more fucking problems!"

Someone from above me yelped directly after I'd shouted. I blinked. I should check that out. Should, as in I _would,_ but I'm not going to, because what if it were a murderer? Or maybe just a stabber? What if they just stab me once and then leave, would going up there just to be stabbed be worth it? No, _Hell_ no. That's why I decided I'm not going to investigate that sound. If they want to do their murdering or stabbering, they can do it elsewhere. Not to me, not in my house, er, apartment floor.

 _What if they see my ecchi manga collection?_ That thought alone abolished the fear of a murderer or stabber likely being in my room. "Get outta there!" I shouted, my feet already headed up the staircase.

 **. . . . .**

"..."

"..."

Neither of us spoke as I stared down at the prone, pink-haired girl. Her blue eyes locked with my own in an impromptu staring contest, with her winning as my own pair of eyes drifted slowly to her rose-red bow. And then to her open blouse. And then finally, back to her somewhat dazed eyes. Only one thought was coherent enough for me that I could process, one I ended up asking out loud.

"Why in the living Fuck did a cosplayer break into my home?" Her laughter at my question did little to answer it.

* * *

 **Haha, you thought I'd end up doing a Monika-IRL thing, didn't you?... oh, you didn't? Shit, that's uh, that's kind of embarrassing actually.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Day 1, Part 2**

 **Prologue (2/2): Not Who They Say They Are, Probably**

* * *

"Weyland!" She shouts, jumping up from the ground towards me. She wraps her arms around me with a low coo; my own limbs stiffening at the sides as I don't return the embrace. Did she just-did she just call me 'Weyland?' As in my character's name... for 'DDLC'? I don't remember telling anyone about my playing it... did I? Even so, I don't know this chick! And why the Hell is she still hugging me?! I try to inch out of her insanely strong grip, but to no avail. Her arms tightening around my torso.

"Uh..." I'm at a loss for words here, really. There wasn't much I can do or say in this situation. An utter, _completely_ utter stranger is in my room. Said completely utter stranger called me 'Weyland', as in a character's name that — probably — hasn't left my lips. Said completely utter stranger was now holding onto me as if her life depended on it. Of course, I do the _one_ rational move in mind. As I pull up my cell-phone, the girl's head on my shoulder impairing my movement, I smack my lips together in the thought of what to say.

The cosplayer jumps happily within the one-sided embrace as I stand idle. A flat-lipped expression is clearly evident across my features. "I was wondering where you'd gone, Weyland! After I'd told you we all loved you, you'd vanished!" _Does anyone else feel like grinding their teeth together, no? Just me? Hokay then._ This stranger, of course, was referring to the final scene one would likely achieve in the aforementioned game. The 'happy' ending.

She must be an avid fan or something. An avid fan who'd hacked into my computer. _Yeah, that makes sense._ Even though I wasn't even online, as I don't own a router or even a provider for internet access. I'd downloaded the game at a McDonald's for Chrissake, so maybe she was there and had access to my shit then? I tap seven familiar digits into my cellphone's little keyboard and sigh, now waiting for a certain someone to answer.

"Weyland?" Not her, though.

The device rings quietly a couple times before a click on the other line sounds. _"Ffffuck, dude. It's four in the morning here. The Hell do you want?"_ I blink, entirely forgetting the difference in our time-zones.

"Hey, what do you do when a cute, Asian chick cosplaying a video game character breaks into your room?" The pinkette in my chest warms up considerably, me thinks she's blushing, but I'm not too concerned about that. She pulls away from the hug somewhat and stares at me with her blue eyes, and as I called it, her cheeks are tinted red. I close my eyes with a sigh and pull away entirely.

 _"What? The Hell're you going on about?"_ Of course he didn't understand me, the guy's just waking up. I turn away from the girl and walk to the door and lean my weight against its frame. She can do whatever, she doesn't _seem_ dangerous. She didn't murder or stab me yet, so, there's _that_ going for her.

Running my fingers through my hair, tugging at it backward so I don't see the annoying strands falling over my face, I click my tongue. "I just told you, there's this cute, Asian girl in my room. I think she broke in or something; all I know is, she's cosplaying Sayori. Y'know, from Doki Doki Literature Club?" He grunts from his end and I push down another sigh attempting to leave me. "Look, I'm just askin' what I'm supposed to do here, Chris. That's all I'm doing." I vaguely hear the sound of sheets parting and muffled movement, a sniffle comes from him.

 _"I dunno, just, fuck man. It's too early for this shit. She do anything to you?"_ I look over my shoulder at the girl, she was still looking at me with a wide smile. She seems happy for whatever reason, but that could change at any moment. Maybe I should just send her on her way? She begins to rock back and forth on the balls of her feet, her hands behind her back as she waits for something. I shake my head and go back to staring into the hallway.

"Nah, nothing so far. It's weird though, dude. She called me by my character's name." The sound of sink water drowns my voice out from his side as I hear him mumble a 'huh?' quietly back to me. I raise my other hand and quietly pinch the bridge of my nose. "Dammit, Chris. I'll call you back later."

 _"Make sure it's later, later. Alright? I don't want to wake up at 4 again. Fuck you, for that by the way. I have work in two hours and I wanted to sleep in a bit more."_ I roll my eyes and click 'end call' absentmindedly before turning back to the cosplayer. As soon as the phone falls back into my pant-pocket, she rushes into me with another death-grip of a hug.

"Weyland! I missed you _so so so so_ much! I know it's only been an hour, but when you disappeared we all assumed the worst!" I feel my chest vibrate from her voice as she whines openly into it and I'm appalled. Who in the Hell is this chick, seriously? I place my hands on her shoulders and shake her once to grab her attention.

Nothing.

Twice.

Nothing.

I shake her a third time and she finally tilts her head up to look at me. Her eyes are wide open, like a puppy dog's, and her nose was quivering slightly. As adorable as she looked, she's still a stranger; she's still invading my home, technically. I shake my head at her as I push her away once more, hopefully for the last time. "First off, it's not Weyland. I dunno where you got that from, but that's not me, alright? My name's Beck, Beck Foster. Don't ask why I'm telling you this because at this point I feel like just going on a tangent." She nods her head once and sniffles her petite nose again; her pale skin still rosy, a low warmth emanating from it. She raises a hand to rub away some of the red tints from her cheeks. "Secondly..."

I go quiet, ruminating on how to phrase my upcoming question. _Screw it_ _, subtlety gets you nowhere._ "Seriously, who the Hell're you?" She tilts her head, closes her eyes, and smiles so brightly — almost as if she were never pouting in the first place — I'd be able to see it if the lights were off. It's horrifying; _cute,_ but horrifying.

"I'm Sayori! Duh, silly~ We've been best friends since forever, don't you remember?" _Hoo boy, this is a looping conversation._ Her broad smile shrinks a little, an analyzing look in her eyes forms as she stares at me. "Weyl... _Beck_." She starts, sounding my name out as if I was joking with her. "You do remember, right?" Her voice lowers, concern lacing her tone. "Are-are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?! Do you have the anorexia!" She gasps as she places the back of her hand against my forehead.

I slap it away rudely and she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

I'm relatively sure I am and pretty sure that I don't, what I do feel though is half tempted to return the question. "Amnesia," I correct without thought, "and no, I'm fine. Lastly-"

She stands, her arms still wrapped loosely over her modest chest, and glares at me. Almost playfully. "Please, don't lie to me, Weyland. I-We missed you, and you're acting all different and-and..." She quiets down, my hand over her mouth being the cause as to why. I feel a wet substance against my hand and I cringe, pulling it back to wipe it on my leg. _Did she seriously just lick my hand? Gross._

This definitely _does not_ seem like the depressed girl from Doki Doki. " _Beck,_ my name is Beck. And please, don't ever lick my hand again. That felt weird as fuck." I'm just going to ignore 'Weyland' from here-out, I will never admit I named a character that. I don't care how cool I actually think that name is. Instead of answering her second statement, I just shake my head. "Anyway, I don't believe your name's Sayori. Uh-uh," I shake my head in thought, "you don't even have a surname." I mean, her name _could_ be Sayori for all I know, but I know jack shit about her! The Hell am I supposed to do, believe every word she says?!

That's how you get stabbed.

"Y-yeah I do! It's Nakai!" _Nakai? Like, Hisao Nakai? From Katawa Shoujo? Tch, someone's definitely a fan of Visual Novels... okay, yeah, I'm totally ripping on myself right now._ I pull away from her again and begin to rub at one of my temples. Why am I even having this conversation? Why is she so touchy? Shouldn't I have called the police or something by now?

"Sure, totally unique name, never heard it before in my life." The sarcasm was so palpable, I _felt_ her flinch at my comment. "Anyway, _Sayori_ _Nakai,_ _"_ using my fingers to air quote her name, I roll my eyes as she simply stares at me curiously. "If you're going to stab me, please just get it over with. This is a headache and a half."

She pouts and shakes her head rapidly. "N-no! I'd never stab you, Weyland! _Never never,_ not in a million, bajillion years!" I almost scoff at her comment, but I refrain from doing so. Instead, I turn away and walk out of my room again. Screw this, I need some coffee, it's only seven in the morning and I don't need to deal with this right now.

"Well, if you intend on doing so later, don't bother telling me. Mk? I'd like to die without knowing how or why, Hell, even when." Why did I bother even coming up here, again? Ah, that's right. My manga collection. I blink, looking at her one more time. "Oh, and if you do decide to off me, stay out of my closet." I begin to mumble to myself — _"do I want black coffee or French Vanilla this morning,"_ life's hardest decision — as I make my way back downstairs, Sayori watching me as I go.

Not even a second after I leave my room, I hear footsteps following my own.

 _Fucking weird ass cosplayers and their weird ass tendencies. She better help pay the bill if she even intends on staying a day._

* * *

 **Y'know, I've trashed on myself more times in these two chapters than I ever did through all of my stories combined. That's...**

 **Fucking awesome.**

 **Ah, one of these days I'm truly going to do a self-insert instead of these parodies and whatnots. Jk, never gonna happen.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Day 4, Part 1**

 **Chapter 1: Not The Beginning of a Friendship**

* * *

"No."

"Waaaa! What do you mean _'no?'_ Isn't this for me, Weyland?"

Oh my God. _"No,"_ I emphasize the word, loudly.

Regardless of my answer, and to my utter dismay, she sticks her tongue out to me and proceeds to pour the last of the black gold down her gullet. I stare at her silently, silently, silently... and throw my head down against the small table's surface. My shoulders shake as I begin to weep into the cheap, wooden material. _"That-that was my last cup and-and I can't afford to buy any more!"_ What has my life become? She's been here for three days; hasn't helped around the apartment, has no job — not unlike me, won't leave me alone... and now all of my black, delectable nectar's gone! _What misdeed did I do to deserve this?!_

The girl, who still to this point refers to herself as Sayori, reaches across the table and pats my head gently. I have an urge to smack it, but instead, continue to cry silently to myself. "Aww, it's okay, Wey'! We'll just go and buy some more~" Her sing-song voice grinds an unused gear inside my brain. Lifting my head to look at her without a verbal response, I slam it back down onto the table. Why couldn't she have just been a murderer? This is worse in every possible way!

"We can't buy any more! We're low on funds... _and there's no 'we!'_ It's just me, I don't even know what you're still doing here!" She tilts her head and smiles, ignoring my entire statement as she sits across from me. I mumble incoherently into the table as I feel a bruise forming on the skin of my forehead. _Rent's due in a week... after that, we'll — I'll truly be broke._ I need a new job, she needs to get her ass out of here. Her hand rests on the back of my head again and I sigh. There's no point. She's just going to continue to do what she pleases. In my entire life, I have never met someone so frustrating until now.

With a grunt, I shake my head to remove her dirty cosplayer hand from me and lift it upward. I stare at the ceiling with mute remorse. "..." I don't bother to glance at her as she giggles to herself for whatever reason. _Maybe I can sell my broken laptop. That'll put me ahead... somewhat._ The thought is filed in the back of my mind, for now. It could work out, maybe. I shift my eyes downward and look briefly at my watch. It's six in the morning and I'm without my wake-up juice. Today is going to be a _long_ day.

"Ooh! Wey', we can-"

"No."

"How about-"

"No. I'm going back to bed."

 _A really fucking long one._

 **. . . . .**

"Weyland."

"..."

"Weyland."

"...hngh."

"Weyland."

 _"... It's Beck."_

"Weyland."

"Fuck off, I'm tryna sleep."

"It's only eight in the morning! And don't be rude, mister!"

 _"I will get up and strangle you._ Let me have this."

"..."

"..."

"Weyland."

"Oh my _FUCKING GOD OKAY. I'M UP."_

"Yay~"

 **. . . . .**

What does one do when they've got a stalker that won't leave you alone, a psycho who blatantly disregards everything you do or say and a girl all bundled up into one creature? Nothing, just give up. She's going to do whatever she so pleases; if she wants to talk, she'll talk. If she wants me to wake up, I'm waking up. If she wants my last bit of fucking coffee, she's going to get _every. Last. Drop._

This is my day so far. This is why I threw myself into Visual Novels in the first place. I regret everything.

I was back downstairs in my 'living room,' the small, cut-in-various-places couch was already occupied by both her and me. Mainly her, as she was lying on it and I was left to sit on an armrest. She had nothing to do and or say, which I was extremely thankful for. "Hey, Weyland?" For two seconds. I groan and look down at her, my silent stare urging her to continue. I don't need to respond, I know she will regardless. "Where are we?" The question puts a pause on my thoughts and I 'hm' to myself.

Why just now bring the question up? I'm not suggesting I believe her about the whole 'I'm Sayori!' thing, but if she really is — which I don't believe her at all — shouldn't she have been wondering by now? _'Oh no, my entire reality is a game,'_ tch. "Well, obviously. We're at where I live." I look around the decrepit apartment and sigh, " _this... is home."_ The wallpaper is tearing, the countertop is cracked, the ceiling leaks — being on the top floor. There wasn't one thing wrong with this place that I wasn't aware of.

She rests a hand under her chin as she looks up to me with a sad, yet curious regard. "This isn't home, Weyland. What happened to your old place?" I don't know if the question she's asking is in relation to my parents' or the place I "had" in _'Doki Doki Literature Club.'_ As I don't believe a word she says about that, I assume my parents'.

Giving as nonchalant a shrug as I can muster, being on an armrest hurts my ass when I move even marginally, I lick my drying lips. "Eh, got booted out about a few years ago. _'Wasn't heading anywhere in life,'_ dad said. He wasn't wrong, I mean, look at this place, it's a wreck. _I'm_ a wreck." I motion with my arm to the entirety of the room and then point a thumb at myself as I speak. She remains silent, thinking about what to say, most likely.

"I-I've never met your parents. Are they nice people?" Good question, not-so-good answer. I lean back into the slight dip of the armrest and let out a low breath or a sigh or-or whatever.

Resting a hand on my chest as casually as I could without throwing off my balance, I look at the ceiling. "Maybe, probably. But not to me. Chris is the good kid, he wasn't the accident as they put it." I don't hear a response, so I close my eyes and begin to ponder a bit.

Slight movement brings me back to reality, but I keep my eyelids shut. "Was Chris the person you were talking to over the phone when you saw me?" I sink my head down and bring it upward in a short, albeit slow nod. "Who is he?" The right corner of my lips pull up in a smirk and I open an eye to peer at her lazily. She's sitting back against the cushion closest to me now.

"Little brother, not by much. He's a shit, but he's cool. Really the only person I keep in contact with, family-wise." She snortles at my definition of him but nods anyway. It isn't long before we both go silent again. Ever since I broke my laptop, there's been almost nothing to do around here besides conversate. _If that goes too, then... shit._ We've got literally nothing to do. Eh, she's been here long enough, maybe she'll want to head out and do something.

"Hey, 'Sayo-"

"Wey'-"

We both pause, my other eyelid props open and we stare at each other awkwardly. She laughs and I choke back a slight chuckle of my own. "Ah, you first." I wave her off, placing my other hand in my right pant-leg pocket. She smiles earnestly at me and my brow raises.

"You were about to say Sayori~" And it drops again, Goddammit. "Anyhoo~ I was going to ask if we can go do something! We've been cooped up in here _foreeever,_ now! I don't want to look any pastier than I already am!" Her suggestion — and whine — earns a fake consideration and her eyes widen, waiting for an answer. I roll my eyes.

"We've only been in here for a few days, it's not that long." Of course, I'm being sarcastic, but I nod. "But yeah, I was waiting for you to ask." Not really, I was about to suggest the same thing. I prop myself up from and off of the couch, cracking my back with a heavy groan. I turn to look back at her and she's already standing beside me.

"So, what do you want to do?" Her questioning gaze earns a shrug.

"Wanna rob a bank?" Am I being serious? I dunno.

"Weyland!"

* * *

 **They're not friends, but they're something. So... yeah.**

 **Don't expect timeskips to be a common thing.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Day 4, Part 2**

 **Chapter 2: Not Regretting Leaving the Apartment**

* * *

We'd decided on having no destination — sort of like my life — and that just wandering around would allow us time to think. Personally, I wholeheartedly agreed with that idea, but there was no way in Hell I was going to let this stranger know that. _Ah, 'stranger' isn't the right term at this point... she's been bunking with me for a few days now... Acquaintance! That's a much better word._ Anyway, the two of us were nearing the shopping district of this city: there are several fast-food chain restaurants, various general goods stores, and a large shopping mall. It wasn't much, but we figured it'd be best to start around this district and hope a better idea hits us.

I'm not going to buy anything for her, nor myself for that matter, though. With what little money I have left, I barely have enough for rent as it is.

I sigh and begin digging around the inside of my coat's inside, right pocket. Pulling out a small case of Marlboros and an old gas lighter, I carefully remove a single cigarette from the box. Raising the cancer-stick to my mouth, leaving it there, I sniffle once; the cold weather around here is getting to me — just another reason to stay indoors. 'Sayori', from the corner of my eye, looks at me with an almost uncertain curiosity. I ignore her senseless gawking. Raising the lighter and flipping it open, I bring the end of the cigarette to life.

I release a ragged breath and then draw in the burning fumes deeply. The sudden intake of nicotine eases my mind for all of a second and I exhale; the billowing cloud flowing freely about in the air.

The cosplayer's eyes widen as the smoke begins to dissipate from the air and into nothingness. Before I can react, she quickly pulls the cigarette from my lips and brings it to hers, an almost childish wonder hiding behind her gaze. "Don't — hey, no! Take that out of your mouth." She ignores my sudden plea and inhales with newfound avidity. Her mouth puckers tightly and her face turns a sickly shade of green. Before she can start coughing and possibly drop the smog-producer, I rip it from her lips and hold it loosely in my hand.

"Aww," she coughs out and tries — but ultimately fails — to glare at me, phlegm flying from her mouth nullifying the needlessly cross stare. "But _you_ do it!" I roll my eyes at her, even as she continues to hack loudly.

"So," I fire back, raising my empty hand to scratch at my scruffy cheek. She crosses her arms as she stares at me, mouth agape and brows furrowed. I give a sidelong smirk as she raises a hand to rub the length of her throat. _Virgin lungs._ I chuckle silently, dryly to myself.

"So, that makes you a hippopotamus!" As quick as the humorous tone had settled in, it vanishes.

"Hypocrite."

"That's what I said!"

I shake my head and replace the butt of the cigarette between my lips, ignoring the hinted flavor of a ripe strawberry the filter seemed to have gained. I close my eyes as we continue to walk side-by-side down the pedway, cars noisily passing us by. The Sayori-Wannabe links our arms together, pulling me from the blackness behind my eyelids. "Hey, stop." She ignores me and I try to pull my sleeve-clad limb away from her. Just like before, her grip is much stronger than mine. _How embarrassing._ Giving up, I let out a prolonged sigh, taking one more puff before pulling the nicotine-stick from my lips. Lowering it to my pant-leg, I burn it out and flick the stogie away from the two of us.

I turn my head towards our new locale and notice we've managed to get nearer to the mall, just outside one of the large parking lots. With another sniffle, I cast a glance at my interlocked partner, her eyes were wide. Maybe she'd never been? _Bah, what do I care, it's a mall; nothing special about it, really._ I raise a hand and wipe away the gathered moisture under my nose, _maybe I should've brought a thicker coat._ The thought doesn't register fast enough as the pink-wigged girl begins to drag me with her. Great.

 **. . . . .**

As soon as we'd entered from the Macy's side, the northwestern portion, Says-She-Is-Sayori left me to go run off in search of whatever. Part of me was thankful, another part was worried — not for her, and the last bit is just pure annoyance. I'm now all by my lonesome, walking through a mall I'd only ever ventured through several other times. In its entirety, I was uninterested. I don't window-shop, I mean why would you hope to get something when you never will; I don't people watch, it's weird enough as is to be around anyone. There was _nothing_ for me to do besides wander aimlessly, waiting for the strange girl to get whatever form of curiosity she has out of her system.

 _I suppose I could stop by Great Purchase and see if they have any cheap computers I can save up for..._ maybe they'll even take mine in and have a look at it, _if_ it's cheaper. I shrug and awkwardly shuffle my way through the food-court, the sheer amount of people about simply making me feel uncomfortable. What if someone recognizes me? What if an ex-coworker spots me? What if _she_ — bumping into someone, I stumble backward, apologies leaving my throat profusely. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, it was an accident I-"

 _"Beck?"_ Oh, _oh no._ My eyes slowly take in the one person I was hoping not to see today, if ever again. The brunette bombshell, the _'Woah Mama'_ of reality, the queen of hearts... and breaking them too. My ex, Janice Grey. She stands still, hand resting idly against her toned hip, and stares at me with a look mixed between surprise and... elation? "Beck, is that you?" I bite my lower lip and go back to looking at the floor, moving a hand up to push my bangs back again.

"U-uh, hey. Jane." It's sad to see such a negative man break, it's even sadder when that man is me. Tentatively, I wrap my hand around my other bicep and stare at the ground all but stationary. _Of all the people I knew... of course, it would be the one I never wanted to see again._ I keep my lips tightly pressed together, even as she grabs me in a sudden embrace.

"Oh, Beck! It's been months, where have you been?" As keen as I am to not answering her question, words flow from my lips as if my own body was against me.

"Ah, y-y'know, around. Job-job to job." _Goddammit, why does she still have this fucking effect on me?_ I groan a little in her ear as her hold on me inches well past familiarity. Thankfully, she pulls away before I can ask her to let go.

"Still having bad luck with that, I see." She giggles at me, pushing her own hair behind an ear as her brown, loving eyes stare into my cold blues. I'd much prefer to be with that Sayori-Look-Alike at this moment than be with Janice. She reaches out and grabs at the hand holding my arm awkwardly. "So, we haven't seen much of each other lately, but... I want you to know I miss you, Beck." _You broke up with me._ I almost scoff, but I simply nod through clenched teeth.

"Um, yeah." Dammit, why I can't I treat her like I do 'Sayori'?

"And, I was thinking..."

 _Oh, please don't do this, not now, not ever._

"Maybe we should..."

 _Pleasepleasepleaseplease._

"Get back toge-"

"Weyland! We have to go, go, go!" A hand that suddenly grips the hood of my jacket pulls me from Janice's dainty grip. I flail as I almost fall on my ass, but turn around before that could happen. The pink-wig-wearing girl just saved my ass, oh my God. I shake my head and begin following after the running girl, gladly leaving the chance encounter behind. Looking briefly over my shoulder, Janice's hands were clenched tightly into fists as she glares past me. I look forward to where she was staring at and there was only one person, only one possibility. 'Sayori.'

"What? What happened?!" We take a quick right into a To-Go-Froyo, the tellers and cashiers now staring at us with questioning brows. I look frantically over the cosplayer to see if anything was wrong with her. I only spot a new sapphire necklace dangling loosely from her neck, but other than that, nothing seemed off. I look into her eyes and she's panicked, sweat was falling down her brow, what could've happened within the ten minutes we were here?!

"There're these mean men, they're chasing me!" She sobs out and her eyes are beginning to water. I don't know why, but something hurts a little in my gut at the sight. Slowly, I piece together the situation. _We have no money to spend, she's wearing a new necklace... those 'mean men' are likely Security trying to reclaim stolen property._ The gut feeling dies as I look dully at her, her pouts now making sense. She looks up at me and gives a weak grin and begins to poke her index fingers together. She knows I know.

"Why in the Fuck is Security after you?!" I know the answer, but I would very much like to hear it from her. The shout draws the attention of several employees and outsiders to the small shop.

"There was this necklace," she toys with the likely expensive pendant and looks down at it, a glaze in her eyes. "It's _soo_ pretty, Weyland!" I growl and throw my head back in defeat.

"You stole a necklace?!" I hear heavy footsteps just outside of the frozen yogurt joint, a headache beginning to form as the want to yell at her further increases. This'll be my undoing, I'll never be able to land a job now. This'll be held against me forever, 'jewelry thief accomplice'. I hold my head up with both of my hands.

"The lady said I could wear it though..."

"Wear! — Not keep! — _You have to buy that shit, moron!"_

 _"Ohhh,_ that makes sense. You don't have to be so rude about it, though."

 _"Please leave the 'To-Go-FroYo', immediately!"_

"If we get out of this without a fine, I'm going to kill you."

"But wouldn't _that_ get you a fine?"

 _"Oh, my fucking God._ It'll get me _somethin'_ alright..."

* * *

 **DaMastah101, to answer your question, _maybe?_ I like to think of the two as separate entities; whereas the world around Weyland is reality, for Beck, it's just a game. ****If one wants to consider this a sequel to "Doki Doki-ish," they can go right ahead and do just that. I personally didn't think of that, so, yeah. Up to you guys, I guess.**

 **Anyway, shit. I didn't think I'd actually really like writing this.**

 **It's fun.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Day 4, Part 3**

 **Chapter 3 (1/3): Not in the Heat of the Moment**

* * *

"200 dollars." My heart stops in my chest for several seconds as I stare blankly at the man in front of me. I shake my head slowly and give a wry chuckle at _'James, Head of Mall Security'._

"One more time?" He doesn't answer me. "You're kiddin' me, right?" _I won't be able to pay rent._ The thought bounces around in my head and my mouth closes. My teeth bite down on the inside of my cheek almost ruthlessly, a bitter taste of copper mixed with my saliva fills the wet cavity. The somewhat fat man looks briefly at both 'Sayori' and I before shaking his head with a quick snort from his nose. "There's no way I can-" a snap of his fingers cuts me off.

"It's either you pay for the necklace or pay the fee Dewsbury Mall Security issued out to you for attempted theft. Either way, it's going to be two hundred from one of you." Hefting up his pants by pulling harshly against his belt, he sits down at his desk across from us. I look down and stare vacantly into my empty hands as the cosplayer remains silent at my side. I clench both my eyes shut as well as my fists and take a shallow, ragged breath.

 _"Fine."_ Taking out my wallet, I grab two large bills from within and toss it at him without another word. I get up and leave, ignoring 'Sayori' as she follows from behind.

 **. . . . .**

Two hundred down from six hundred total. There's no way I can make two hundred dollars in a week, my only chance is the laptop but that's not even likely to garner up the amount I need. _I'm fucked, this is-this is it._ I'm already on the fence with Asher as it is, he won't give me any more time like my last late payment. _Sonovabitch!_ I inhale the smoke from my newest cigarette deeply, trying to drown myself in the cancerous smog. I kick aimlessly at the tiled ground as I walk, once more, through the mall. They can boot me out for smoking for all I care, I need this. I need to calm down before I yell at somebody or-or something.

'Sayori' tries grabbing my hand but I rip it from her without a second thought. _This is her fault, the idiot went and ended up stealing a Goddamn necklace. Who the fuck is that stupid?!_ "Wey'?" Yeah, she saved my ass from Janice, but then she fucked it again by making sure I won't have a bed to call my own in a week. Fucking great! Fucking _fantastic!_ God, I want to rip my hair out right now. I take another desperate puff from the cigarette. "Wey', you're not mad at me, right?" I close my eyes and ignore her, I close my eyes and ignore her, I close my eyes and ignore-

"Wey'?"

-I can't. Turning around to face her, she flinches back a foot as I glare with more passion than I've ever mustered previously. "What? What the fuck do you want?!" I grip the cigarette tightly, the end of it burning the sensitive flesh of my right hand's palm before dying out. I toss it to the ground as she stares mutedly at me, hurt flashing in her eyes.

"A-are you mad at-"

"YES! Yes, I _am_ mad at you, I'm fucking pissed!" She flinches again and takes another step backward, her eyes beginning to water. "How can you be so stupid?!" I tap the palm of my hand against my forehead and throw it down to imitate what went through her head at that moment. _Absolutely fucking nothing._ "Stealing a necklace — do you have any idea how much that set me back?! I don't have a job, I can't afford this month's payment... and it's YOUR Goddamn fault!" I let out a raspy breath as I clench my hands tightly, "what the Hell were you thinking?" My voice quiets down and I ignore the stares of strangers and fellow mall-goers.

'Sayori' looks at me, her mouth opening and closing as if she were trying to find the right words to say. There were none, however. None that can take back what happened, none that can conjure up the money I needed. There was _nothing_ she could do. "I... I-"

"You weren't." Her mouth remains agape as the sentence leaves my mouth. "You haven't thought _once_ since we met. It was all 'Weyland' this, 'Weyland' that. _I'm_ not your best friend, and obviously, you're sure as Hell ain't mine... tch, I don't even know why I let you stay with me." I turn my back to her and begin walking, shoving my hands into my jacket's pockets. I wince wordlessly as the wool from the inside rubs against the newly raw wound on my hand. I hear a small thud and various whimpers, but I don't turn my head to look at her.

"Weyland, W-Wey'! I'm-"

"Just leave me alone..." I don't turn my head to look at her, I don't turn my head to look at her, I don't turn my head to look at her... I sigh to myself and cast a lingering glance over my shoulder at 'Sayori'. She's sitting on her knees in the middle of the food court, sobbing as she watches me go. I give a hint of a frown as others look on silently at us both. She doesn't get up to follow me like I've been used to, but I turn away before anyone — especially her — can see the mild disappointment etched on my face.

 _Why should I care? She's the one who came into my life just to ruin it._ I spit on the ground outside of the Macy's entrance, a tiny mixture of bubbly transparent white and red splatters across the cement pathway. _Ah, I forgot, I ripped my cheek open..._ I prod the inside of my mouth with my tongue and grimace at the torn feeling.

I spit one more time and start making my way home.

* * *

 **Oi, this chapter was much more dramatic than I was aiming for... I swear, when I say this, that Sayori is my favorite character and I hate having to write the sudden shift in atmosphere. Sadly, it's needed to progress the story.**

 **Anyway, wanted to comment on my lack of updates for "Doki Doki-ish." Was kind of in a writer's slump for a bit, y'know? But guess what, Chapter 10's finally in the fucking works again! Yeah!**

 **also, inb4 someone points out that this chapter was hella short.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Oi, quick interruption. He gave two of my stories some recognition (this, being one of them), so I feel obligated to return the favor. Even though "Chapter 7" to "The World Beyond The Screen" by DaMastah101 stated that the story is currently under a temporary hiatus (due to some asshat) ****— at least that's what I got from it — it's a great read. It's cutesy, it's definitely in favor of the second best Doki (IMO) Monika, and it shows what can happen through sheer determination (and luck, definitely luck... _if you can count lightning lucky)_. Make sure to try and stop by there to give the guy (and the story) some love and support, eh? **

**I know Monika sure does *wink wink* xDDD**

* * *

 **Day 4, Part 4**

 **Chapter 4 (2/3): Not Thinking Clearly**

* * *

"Weyland, W-Wey'! I'm-"

"Just leave me alone." He cuts me off almost instantly and I can feel my heart shattering into pieces in my chest. He doesn't even bother to look back at me. An emotional wave of hurt and-and something else washes over my whole body and _it's just too much._ I can't bear it anymore; tears run down my face as he leaves me crying on the floor in the middle of the food court.

His body turns a corner and he's out of sight entirely. "We-Weyland! Please! I'm-I'm sorry!" I clutch my hands over my chest as I sob, head facing the dampening tile-floor. He doesn't answer nor does he return. The necklace that Weyland inadvertently paid for — he never told the security guy what the money was going to, the fine or the necklace — dangles loosely from my neck and I stare at it in contempt. _This was all my fault, if I wasn't so stupid, we'd still be together and he wouldn't be mad anymore and-and..._ I choke back a gasp as more droplets of distress fall from my cheeks. _This is all my fault._

Someone's hand on my shoulder causes me to look up. "W-Weyl-" my voice catches softly in my throat, my head tilting as I stare through glossy eyes up at the lady looking down at me. Isn't this the same girl I saw Weyland with before-before... yeah, it is her.

"No, sweety," she gives off a sweet smile and despite how torn up inside I'm feeling, I can't help but return it between sobs. She lowers herself next to me and pushes her stunning brown hair behind an ear, her eyes looking gently into mine. "I'm Janice, hon... you look like you've just had your heart torn out, am I right?" I nod. "Hm, poor thing." She places a hand on my cheek, it's warm. _A lot like Weyland's._

"He-I... I did something-something bad and I-" her pointer finger over my lips shushes me and I close my mouth.

"You're alright, dear. I saw the whole fiasco. Hell, I'm sure everyone this side of the mall did." She gives a low chuckle, despite the awkward truth behind her words. We really did cause a scene, huh? Luckily enough, it's only her that cared so much about it to approach me. Everyone else seems to have gone on with their regular day. "Come on, get up dear. Let me buy you a FroYo, hm? You can tell me _all_ about it, that should make you feel better, right?" Her voice is soft and so enticing; I nod, bringing my wrist up to dry my cheeks. She's a nice lady, I can tell... and she seems to know Weyland, maybe she can help me apologize to him.

"Y-yeah." She pulls me up gently from the floor and politely waits for me to gather the rest of my bearings. With a soft dip of her head, she takes my hand in hers and we make way to where both Weyland and I got in trouble... well, he _wouldn't_ of, if I hadn't dragged him into my stupidity. I sniffle and fight back another low sob in thought. Janice's hand begins to rub my back as she coos softly.

"There, there. You'll feel better soon, dear. What's your name?"

"S-Sayori, Miss Janice."

"Oh, just call me Jane, 'Yori. All my friends do." _Th-that's Weyland's nickname for me..._

"O-oh, okay, M-Miss Jane."

 **. . . . .**

To say I was angry was probably an understatement; never before had I felt the need to practically scream at anyone, especially in public, _in a mall of all places._ But that girl, that damn cosplayer was just so infuriating! I couldn't believe it, I just, _I couldn't._ How could anyone manage to unintentionally steal a necklace — _a necklace, a pricey one at that_ — out of everything that could've been taken? I can understand 'accidentally' pocketing a pack of Marbs, but a fucking necklace... Surely, she must've been playing stupid, acting out the character she so unremittingly proclaims to be. _No one is that brainless, right?_ I raise my left hand and scratch at my cheek, the scruff distracting me from my thoughts for only a moment.

 _Hopefully not._

The modern American tumbleweed; a plastic bag drifts aimlessly across the street before me as I travel homeward. Grumbling to myself, tufts of warm, tangible breath flowing from my mouth and into the open air, I stare silently forward. My tongue continues to prod at the self-inflicted irregularity in my mouth, the wound still somewhat fresh and sore. Out of cigarettes, down a big wad of cash, still out of a job, _and now,_ by myself with two brand new nicks on my body. A Helluva day so far. I shiver lightly beneath my flimsy jacket and look down at my right palm.

A raw, still red burn-mark stares back up at me and I shake my head looking away from it. Two new nicks all 'cause I got mad; _pathetic._ I carefully slide my hand into my front right pant-pocket, pulling up my cell phone with a low sigh. _Two hundred fucking bucks._ With a furrow of my brow, I stop walking. Maybe, _if_ I can get Chris to answer his phone, maybe he can help me out with my newfound situation. I purse my lips and tap his digits into my phone, bringing the device to my ear with a hum.

It rings several times, but the automated voice is all that answers me. I click my tongue in annoyance before shoving my free hand into my jacket pocket. I let out another breath of air. "Hey, ah... Chris, it's me. I've got a favor to ask, call me back when you can alright?" As soon as the final word leaves my lips, I abruptly end the message. I _hate_ having to ask people — even family — for help. I hate it, more so than I hate everything about today. This 'necessary' phone call was just the cherry on the top. _God, I hope he says no._ I close my eyes tightly and return the device to my pocket.

Opening them, I move onward once more. "Maybe Asher will grant me some leeway and give me a bit more time... I already have _most_ of the money." I chew on my lower lip to hold back a low, cross laugh. _Fucking greedy bastard'll probably only give me a few extra days, max._ Of all of the places I could've been living in, the landlord I'm stuck with is a Goddamn asshole.

I shiver again and pull my hood up; _fucking winter. Fucking Asher. Fucking life._ As unfair of a hand I was dealt, it's mine. And that just pisses me off even more. The hum of an engine begins to near and I glance upward; an Oldsmobile Dynamic 88 whurs by on the road next to me and I sneer at the back of it as it passes me by. I raise a hand, preparing to flip off the vehicle as if that'll make my day any better. "Here's looking at you, you lucky sonovabit-" my voice catches in my throat just as I spot a person with a head full of pink hair sitting in the passenger seat.

My stare lowers to the license plate and my face pales just a little bit more.

 _'Jan-Jan'_

* * *

 **If you haven't noticed (or really cared in the first place), this Sayori is not the "Depresso Espresso Venti 24 oz" Sayori, but instead is the "Good Ending," one. I'll still have her be a Debby Downer here and then, but no way will I write a fucking suicide scene with her in this fanfic.**

 **Goddammit, now I want an espresso.**


End file.
